


Public

by Deadly_Sirius



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (a little angsty okay but whatever), AND IT'S FLUFF TOO, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Exhaustion, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Male Character, Hair Washing, Hotels, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Smut, One Shot, Paparazzi, Press and Tabloids, Showers, Sleepy Cuddles, Strong Language, Stucky - Freeform, Tired Steve Rogers, WHO IS SHE, me??? successfully writing a one shot and not a 43k fic?? WHAT???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-24 03:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadly_Sirius/pseuds/Deadly_Sirius
Summary: A hotel night during an Avengers press tour where Bucky hates the paparazzi and Steve is exhausted. Bucky closes the curtains, washes Steve's hair, and they talk a little.





	Public

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first successful, short, one shot. I'm so proud of it. It's also fluffy. I'm so proud.

The sleek dark car pulled up to the side of two large glass doors decorated with cursive black lettering of the hotel's name. Flashes dotted their eyesight, questions and rumors shouted out, clouding their thoughts and cheapening their smiles. The crowds were the worst part, Bucky thought bitterly to himself, covering his face with a large metal hand. He didn't love wearing his prosthetic out in public as it was made for fighting, but Tony never seemed to have enough time to make him one less intimidating that worked just as well. Plus, the reflection of the paparazzi's flash in the metal tended to ruin photos, or at least cover what part of his face he couldn't block from the cameras.

Steve, however, beamed brightly as they headed towards the hotel entrance, keeping up his image as America's Hero, America's Golden Boy, America's Male Sweetheart, America's Favorite- Bucky could already see the headlines posted above the photos currently being taken. The other man apparently hadn't wrapped it around his head yet that not all civilians were nice and deserved a picture. He also hadn't wrapped it around his head that the paparazzi sold to tabloids inflating his sexuality for more clicks on their website. Bucky always saw himself on the front cover of gossip magazines in the grocery store whenever he and Steve decided to spend time in public. Red circles around their clasped hands while Steve licked an ice cream, or obnoxious yellow print exclaiming something either homophobic or fetishizing of their relationship next to a photo of Bucky's hand on Steve's thigh.

Although their situation was horrendous, even arguably worse than before they'd come out to the public, Bucky knew he should be thankful. Tony had it so much worse. After nearly twenty years, the tabloids still refused to look up the definition of bisexual. Every other week they claimed he was 'back to being gay' or that he was 'a total womanizing man!' It became so obnoxious with his and Bruce's long-term relationship that it had nearly split them apart a few times. Peter would see articles retelling the stories of all of his ex-lovers, even one with the headline "All Of Tony Stark's Sexualities And Exes That You Forgot About!" It made Bucky kind of want to throw up; he missed the hell out of his digital-less age.

Groaning at Steve  _actually answering the paparazzi's questions_ , Bucky grabbed Cap's arm with his free hand and dragged him under the awning. He grumbled something about his distaste for fame. Steve, still smiling, muttered subtly under his breath that if Bucky "Could behave this once then maybe I'll let you fuck me tonight," and Steve had a strict no-sex-during-press-tours policy. 

This did not go unnoticed by Bucky and, after his lungs resumed breathing, he chased after Steve, grabbing his waist right in front of the hotel doors and kissing him deeply. The clicking of camera shutters somehow became louder. Steve smiled bashfully and waved goodbye to everybody as the hotel security ushered them into the building. One of Tony's millions of assistants, managers, agents, or whatever, had made the reservation for them. None of the Avengers asked Tony to take of everything; he just did. He had the most influence, money, and experience in that decade so it'd be stupid for them to do it themselves. In all honesty, S.H.I.E.L.D. was completely useless while S.I. got everything done efficiently. His team handled all of everything, or so it seemed to Bucky. He didn't know all that much about planning press tours.

Once they entered their room, Bucky headed straight for the windows and began closing the blinds, jamming the pesky string down at an awkward angle to get it to close. He breathed easier when the cameras were out of view. Steve seemed to entertain himself by kicking off his shoes and laying down on the bed. Immediately, his eyelids shut.

"Not gonna help me?"

"You seem perfectly capable, why would I? Lose an arm or something?"

Steve cracked one eye open with a cheeky grin to watch Bucky's reaction at the joke. Satisfied that the other man had laughed, Steve's face evened out again. His tense body sunk slowly into the pillows and blankets until he began to meld with the mattress. One of the reasons he never had sex on press tours was because at the end of the day he was too exhausted. This was a prime example, and Bucky resigned to not holding Steve to his previous promise.

Captain America's breathing got lower and rhythmic before Bucky crawled up his legs on the bed. Flattening himself fully over the captain, their stomachs touching, Buck kissed Steve's jaw in an attempt to wake him up a little. "Hey. Babe. You can't fall asleep in your clothes."

"Mmm, why not?" Steve asked, wrapping an arm around Bucky to keep him firmly in place. Steve then flipped both of them over quickly for his state of consciousness, landing Bucky on his back. Stretching over him and effectively reversing their positions, Steve nuzzled his face into the crook of Bucky's shoulder and swore he could fall asleep right there, basking in Bucky's cologne and natural smell.

"Because, you'll feel gross in the morning. You're even wearing socks," Bucky laughed, rubbing Steve's back in between his shoulder blades and watching more tension disappear. Poking Cap in the side, Bucky tried to sit up a little.

"Just undress me as I lay here and then I won't be sleeping in my clothes," Steve mumbled sleepily.

"Come on, go wash your face and brush your teeth and you can come back." Steve moaned. "Babe, I'm serious." Another whine vibrated into Bucky's collarbone. "You know that if  _I_ sleep with my arm in it'll fuck itself and cramp my shoulder all day, right? Tony hasn't fixed it after last time yet."

Steve remembered that night. Bucky had come back from an Avengers mission late at night, accidentally waking up Steve who had been worried out of his mind. It had been one of those 'don't tell anybody you're leaving, we'll fuck up and be gone and possibly in perilous danger for a week longer than we said' jobs. It had taken all of three minutes to get Bucky to let Steve ride him, Bucky tired and not able to put in any effort but Steve desperately needing to be close to him after radio silence.

Bucky had left his arm on so he could have both hands on his lover's hips, and in a post-orgasmic and near-death-experience haze, he'd forgotten to detach the metal prosthetic as he usually did each night. He had slept on it awkwardly before and it had not been fun, but the second Bucky woke up he knew something was wrong. His arm felt heavier than it should've, his body dropping slightly to the side with the sudden weight. The circuits were fucked and shot unnecessary synapses to his nerves that Bucky's brain perceived as shooting pains in the back of his shoulder, his upper ribs, and his left pectoral. His back was sore from the weight and from tensing at each hot stab that he felt. Taking the prosthetic off was dangerous when it wasn't working correctly and before he'd woken up Tony had left to announce that the Avengers were safe and sound at home.

Bucky, however, had not been sound at all. The second Stark returned from the conference he'd dragged the engineer off to detach the fucking thing from his body. After removing it safely, Tony planned to work on the tech and try to prevent it from doing  _that_ if Barnes slept on it again, but he hadn't had time before Peter got into trouble again. Bucky hadn't cared if it might hurt a little when he heard Peter was in danger and grabbed it as half of the group headed to Queens. Luckily, it hadn't given him a problem when he put it back on and after carefully taking it off each night, Bucky'd managed to avoid any unwarranted pain from the damn thing. He wasn't willing to push his luck just because Steve was sleepy. Advil didn't cure that amount of muscle soreness.

Although he wouldn't be motivated to take care of himself, Steve always did everything in his power to take care of Bucky, so he reluctantly rolled off of the other and slid out of bed and to the floor. A drama queen. He managed to find his footing again and hunched over on his way to the bathroom. Smiling to himself when the faucet started running, Bucky removed his shirt and flipped the necessary panels, tugged at just the right spots, and let out a deep exhale as the prosthetic finally detached from his body. Thankfully, Shuri had taken into account that Bucky wanted to be able to take his arm off whenever the need might arise, and created him a model that worked like contacts: not irritating when it's in, but don't sleep in it. 

Hydra had obviously not meant for it to ever come off, especially not by the Winter Soldier, and it had taken some convincing for Shuri to get it off. He hadn't been on good terms with Tony long enough to get him to deal with it, but Shuri was gentle, quick, and precise. She also gave him surgery: cleaned up his amputation, fit an electrical cuff onto his shoulder for easy removal and application of the new arm, reworked the synthetic muscles surrounding the amputation so they felt more natural and functioned better while adding extra power and force into them. It said something about the complexity of the human brain and Shuri's skill that if Bucky slept in his prosthetic, metal and wires sent signals to fake muscles which told his brain that parts of his body that didn't even exist or were replaced by technology were in pain.

Bucky placed the metal on the hotel dresser and cleaned it along with the cap over his injury, being careful with the exposed connections waiting to be reattached. He never felt off-balance without his arm, exactly, but the change was easier when Shuri made his new arm lighter and stronger. The rest of his clothes were shed easily, Bucky knowing how to navigate them one-armed from his time in Wakanda, and he pulled on some sweatpants, heading to the bathroom to wash up.

Steve looked bleary as he stared at his reflection, willing himself to wash the product a hairstylist had put in his hair for the afternoon's interviews. He really didn't want to. Figuring out new showers' temperatures and water pressures and angles and whatever else came with using a different shower took effort and Steve had zero motivation to do anything.

"You doin' okay?" Bucky's voice sounded with a light knock on the door.

"No," Steve whimpered. The door pushed open and Bucky's worry expression turned to one of glee and amusement at Steve's drooping shoulders. "I have to wash this fucking gel out of my hair," he gestured to his head, "but I don't want to fucking move and all I wanna do is go the fuck to sleep."

Most people would be in horror at the fact that Captain America was close to tears, but Bucky knew he was just an overtired toddler. "Watch your language, doll," Bucky sighed, sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet and pulling Steve into his lap. Steve slumped down and pressed his face into where Bucky's shirt would have been. Whenever he got tired or overstimulated, he had a habit of getting as much of himself as close to Bucky as possible. And he went from adorably sleepy and cuddly to flat-out exhaustion very quickly. "Stevie, look at yourself! You're Captain America and you're crying over needing to take a five minute shower."

"I haven't slept in a week," Steve sobbed dramatically.

"It's been at most thirty-six hours and that's from flying on planes or traveling in chauffeured cars and answering questions from your citizens. You fought in a  _World War_ , Steve. You saved the universe, like, five times."

"Yeah, and that shit was hard too. You suck at giving pep talks."

"Alright, get in the shower, I'll help you," Bucky groaned, lifting Steve off of him.

While Steve removed anything still on his body, Bucky turned the shower handle and adjusted the nozzle so it sprayed into the middle of the shower, not at the wall. He allowed his hand to test the temperature and after setting it to a suitable degree, he motioned for Steve to hop in. Ungracefully stripping down again, Bucky got in behind Steve and closed the glass door. He rubbed the back of Steve's neck and kissed him gently as Steve stood under the spray. Picking up the small complimentary bottle of cucumber mint shampoo, Bucky quickly realized he didn't have another hand to squeeze it onto.

Steve laughed briefly when he noticed Bucky's struggle and took the container from him. After he squirted some of the soap into Bucky's right hand, he pressed another quick kiss to his lips and allowed Bucky's hand to massage his scalp. It was hard to stay awake and upright like that, and Steve found his eyes drifting closed at the pleasant feeling and the white noise of the shower.

"This would be easier without your jacked-up height," Bucky joked, his voice low after not speaking for awhile. Steve reopened his eyes, and although he was still standing, he could not tell how long had passed since they had shut. When he rubbed his own hands over his face to try and rid himself of some drowsiness, he found his blond locks to be soft and clean, indicating Bucky had rinsed, conditioned, and rinsed again. "You wanna do me?" Bucky joked, and Steve's face paled.

The long brown strands had been gone for a while. The Winter Soldier was not around anymore, and neither was the lone man who raised goats in Africa. Bucky decided to clean up, and the first time Steve saw him clean-shaven with his short hair, Cap nearly cried (the hero did a lot more than people thought, he was a big softie). It was James Buchanan Barnes: Bucky, not some assassin Hydra built. Even with the metal arm peaking out from below a faded red short-sleeve shirt and his legs clad in casual jeans, Bucky looked more like his old self than he ever had in the '40s, Steve thought. He had hugged Bucky tightly and whispered into his hair how much he was loved that day.

But even the shortest haircut would have been too long for Steve. Bucky waved him off and lathered some soap through his hair, stuck his head under the spray until the suds were gone and called it a night. Steve was grateful. The two towled-off and Bucky returned to his glorious, cozy sweatpants while Steve opted for flannel bottoms and a t-shirt. He barely pulled the pajamas on before collapsing onto the bed. The second he latched onto his boyfriend, after Bucky slid under the sheets next to him, Steve Rogers was out cold. Bucky pet Steve's damp hair and couldn't help it if his eyes twinkled at the sight of Steve attached to his side where metal had been less than an hour ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and/or leave kudos if you enjoyed it!


End file.
